


syncopate

by sohmins



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 03:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohmins/pseuds/sohmins
Summary: It’s a minor displacement, but that’s all it takes; and suddenly Chaeyoung’s life turns upside down.





	syncopate

**Author's Note:**

> let the confusion ensue

The doorbell, shrill and jarring, breaks the relative stillness of the room.

 

Chaeyoung looks at the clock in confusion, but nonetheless stands up from the sofa to get the door. Before she can, though, another voice calls out, “I got it!”

 

Smiling, Chaeyoung sits back down as Lisa goes to answer the door instead. The rain outside is pouring, and Chaeyoung tries to ignore it as she listens to the voices speaking at the door.

 

A few moments later: “Hey, it was a package,” Lisa says as she walks into the living room.

 

Chaeyoung frowns. “In this weather?” she asks, glancing out the window. It’s still the morning, but the rain is relentless, as it has been for a long time now.

 

Lisa only shrugs, brushing her dark brown bangs out of her eyes. “Well, it’s their job, right? At least it’s here.”

 

That’s when Chaeyoung first sees it—the flicker. She looks back outside, marvelling at the rain and how it can keep falling, apparently endless, when there’s a flicker—a moment between blinks when the rain seems to freeze despite the sound continuing. But then Chaeyoung blinks, and the rain is still falling.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Lisa asks her.

 

Chaeyoung turns to see Lisa eyeing her cautiously, looking between her and the window. Lisa’s eyes are still bright; a rich cocoa brown that haven’t dimmed with the passing years. Chaeyoung never fails to be mesmerized by them.

 

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Chaeyoung laughs, fully turning away from the window and toward Lisa. “Haven’t had my coffee yet.”

 

\--

 

It’s still raining outside when the doorbell rings again.

 

The clock chimes, announcing the hour as four o’clock. Chaeyoung gets up this time to check the door; after a quick glimpse through the peephole, she opens the door to welcome the familiar face waiting outside.

 

“Hey, Jisoo, come in!”

 

Jisoo enters hastily, her dark brown hair wet at the ends that extended beyond the coverage of her umbrella. “God, this _rain_. It just won’t let up!”

 

“Yeah, let’s get you warmed up inside. Coffee?”

 

“Sounds—”

 

A loud, monotonous beep. Too loud. It pierces Chaeyoung’s ears. Both of them jump.

 

“Sounds like a thunderstorm out there,” Jisoo says, placing a hand over her heart. Even as Chaeyoung furrows her brow, Jisoo just looks back to the entrance. “Let’s close this door . . . god, that thunder got my heart racing.”

 

\--

 

Flashing lights, flashing red and blue. Sirens blaring.

 

People yelling.

 

The sound of heavy-soled boots. Screeching metal.

 

Chaeyoung wakes up with a jolt, the sounds echoing in her ears, fading slowly into the constant thrumming of the rain outside. To her side, Lisa is still asleep.

 

Once she feels her breathing return to a normal rate, Chaeyoung lays back down. She doesn’t know how much time passes before the ceiling fades to black, and she falls into another fitful sleep.

 

\--

 

They’re woken up by the doorbell.

 

They’re never woken up by the doorbell. _Their doorbell doesn’t work. That’s why their friends would always knock—their friends—_

 

Chaeyoung’s mind is suddenly foggy. But Lisa is already getting out of bed, unphased—she’s supposed to be confused too, though, so why—

 

“Come back!”

 

Chaeyoung blinks. “What?”

 

Lisa stops at their bedroom door to turn around, and smiles. “I said I’ll get it.” Then she disappears behind the door.

 

The rain is pounding on the windows, pounding on the entire house. _How many days has it been raining?_

 

Though her mind still feels foggy, Chaeyoung throws the covers back and gets up.

 

From downstairs, Lisa calls up, “Hey, it was a package!”

 

A flicker, and everything goes white. Chaeyoung feels the strength leave her legs as she collapses back, but the floor doesn’t catch her, and she’s still falling—

 

They’re woken up by the doorbell.

 

Next to her on the bed, Lisa shifts, and then stretches her arms out. “I’ll . . .” She yawns, and then rubs her eyes. “I’ll get it.”

 

Chaeyoung’s head hurts, a consistent throbbing all over her skull keeping in time with her pulse. She goes back to sleep.

 

\--

 

The beeping is too loud. There’s someone crying.

 

But Chaeyoung can’t move, can’t open her eyes, until she wakes up an unknown time later for an unknown reason. She looks at Lisa, still sleeping, and then she looks outside. It’s still raining.

 

\--

 

Chaeyoung is sitting on the sofa when the doorbell rings. She feels her heart speed up. _Not again._

 

From another room: “I’ll—”

 

“Don’t!”

 

Lisa, instead of heading to the door, enters the living room, where Chaeyoung is standing up. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Don’t get the door.”

 

“What? Why not?”

 

Chaeyoung shakes her head. “Don’t get the door, you always get the door.” It’s just a doorbell. It’s just a package. Chaeyoung takes a slow breath. “I’ll get it.”

 

“What?” Lisa rolls her eyes. When Chaeyoung focuses too much on her, it seems like Lisa’s eyes change slightly, like Chaeyoung is looking at her through a filtered lens. There’s a slight distortion; a flicker.

 

“God, Chaeng, why are you so on edge right now? It’s just the door, I can just—”

 

“ _Please_ , just let me. Let me get the door.”

 

Lisa looks like she’s about to protest, so Chaeyoung quickly says, “It’ll be fine.”

 

With a sigh, she walks up to Lisa, is about to walk past her when Lisa’s hand shoots out and wraps around her wrist in a viselike grip. “Come back.”

 

“What?”

 

“Come back.”

 

Chaeyoung tries to pull her hand free. “Lisa, what the hell are you—”

 

“It’s raining,” Lisa says suddenly. “Don’t go.”

 

“Lisa, it’s a package. It’s their job, even if it’s raining,” Chaeyoung says, the words oddly familiar in her head. “Remember?” she asks, even when she can’t. But she does.

 

It was raining. _It’s raining, don’t go._

 

But she had driven in the rain before. It was nothing.

 

_Screeching tires, screeching metal._

 

Chaeyoung’s heartbeat stutters, the syncopation resonating around the room. The walls seem to beat in time with her heart. Suddenly Lisa’s grip is the only thing keeping her upright, but it’s just as suddenly that her grip disappears, leaving Chaeyoung standing alone in the middle of the living room.

 

“Lisa—”

 

“Come back!”

 

Her knees wobble as the room flickers, and then begins to spin. The colors start swirling, the walls blending into the floor, and Chaeyoung knows she’s dreaming, but she can’t wake up. She blinks, trying to focus on something, anything, as she looks down at the tiles. The familiar squares shift into circles and back to squares, the colors flashing with increasing brightness.

 

It’s too much. She needs to wake up. She takes a shaky step back—one, two, until she hits the sofa and practically collapses into it. Her head feels too heavy as she lifts it up. _Why isn’t she waking up?_

 

Chaeyoung closes her eyes, trying to keep her head steady, and when she opens them again, Lisa is in front of her. Lisa is smiling, the smile stretching from ear to ear and Chaeyoung can see all of her teeth. “Come back,” she says, still smiling. Her voice sounds a bit too shrill; it reminds Chaeyoung of the doorbell.

 

Chaeyoung scrambles off of the sofa, reduced to crawling as the room keeps moving. She tries to pull herself up by the coffee table, but her hand goes right through it to the carpet. Chaeyoung stares.

 

She doesn’t hear Lisa move because suddenly the only only sound in the room is a constant beeping, high-pitched and deafening. But she does see Lisa walk in front of her and crouch down, her smile still in place.

 

“Come back,” she says again, but she isn’t saying it—she can’t be, because her smile isn’t moving. “Come back.”

 

The doorbell rings, its normal chime replaced by a female voice, not Lisa’s voice. “Come back.”

 

The television set turns on, and Chaeyoung feels her phone vibrating in her pocket; from the living room speakers, and even her own head, the same voice:

 

“Come back.”

 

“Come back.”

 

_Come back._

 

There’s a moment at which Chaeyoung feels as though she is nowhere and everywhere, both at once. Then the room dissolves, rid of its decor, its color, as if they’re being washed off; the previously beige walls, comforting in their appearance, are now a harsh, unforgiving white. This new room is small, and Chaeyoung is lying down in a white bed that matches her surroundings.

 

Someone is beside her; a woman, her head near Chaeyoung’s hand, her dark brown hair messily covering her face. She looks like she’s sleeping.

 

Chaeyoung smiles. “Lisa,” she says; her voice is nonexistent, and all that comes out is a cough as the beeping gets faster.

 

Lisa shifts slightly; without waking, she whispers softly, “Come back.”

 

Chaeyoung tries to clear her throat, but everything she does feels sluggish. Instead, she tries to move her hand, the one close to Lisa, to try to wake her. When Chaeyoung’s hand finally moves, barely brushing some of her hair, Lisa jolts up, suddenly awake.

 

The person staring back at her with wide eyes is not Lisa.

 

“Chaeyoung? Oh my god . . . Chaeyoung . . .” Silenced by her shock, Jisoo claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes, duller than when Chaeyoung last saw her, are disbelieving as she maintains contact with Chaeyoung’s. “You’re awake. You’re back.”

 

Chaeyoung frowns. “What do you mean?” she tries to say, but it’s slow, and her voice is too soft to be audible.

 

“Hold on,” Jisoo says. She leans forward to press a button near Chaeyoung’s bed; when she’s closer, Chaeyoung can see that her face looks . . . older, almost. Her laugh lines are more pronounced. When Jisoo sits back and finds Chaeyoung staring at her, she says, “Don’t worry, the doctor will be here soon . . . oh my god. You’re back.”

 

Finally, Chaeyoung manages to cough, clearing her throat a little more. “What?” she croaks out. Then she shakes her head—bad idea, because now her head is _pounding_ , in time with her heartbeat and the beeping of the machine. “Where’s Lisa?”

 

Jisoo is holding Chaeyoung’s hand in both of her own, her grip careful. Her hands are slightly rough. “She’ll be here too, I’ll call her—I can’t believe it. You came back . . . Chaeng, it’s been so long . . .”

 

When the doctor arrives, he quickly assesses Chaeyoung’s vitals, checks that everything is all right. “You’re very strong,” he tells her. “We were at the point of accepting that you would not be returning.”

 

Jisoo is crying by the bed.

 

Chaeyoung is confused.

 

“Where’s Lisa?” she asks again, her voice slightly stronger this time. The doctor tells the nurse to get some water.

 

“She’s on her way.” Jisoo glances at her phone again. “Oh, I think she’s—”

 

“I’m here.”

 

At the door, chest heaving as she regains her breath, is Lisa.

 

But Chaeyoung frowns. Her hair is a no longer brown, but black—back to its natural color. She’s lost most of her lankiness, and her face is more defined.

 

She looks older, somehow; an age that hasn’t shown previously suddenly all catching up. But she’s beautiful.

 

Lisa approaches carefully, gaze trained on Chaeyoung, as if disbelieving of her own eyes, coming to a stop about halfway into the room. “Chae . . . young . . . Chaeng . . . oh my—oh my _god_.”

 

If Chaeyoung was confused before, she’s even moreso now. “What—” she cuts herself off as someone else enters, someone that she has never seen before.

 

She’s also attractive, and she looks to be in her late twenties, early thirties—which, now that Chaeyoung thinks about it, is what Lisa and Jisoo look like. She has pin-straight hair longer than Lisa’s is—or was, at least. It’s longer than what Lisa’s hair is now. She walks up to where Lisa is still staring and, her eyes also landing on Chaeyoung, she puts a supportive hand on Lisa’s back.

 

Chaeyoung stares at that point of contact, at the way the woman moves her hand up and down, as if comforting Lisa. Chaeyoung feels as though her gaze should be burning a hole into Lisa’s shoulder.

 

But it’s only with this woman’s encouragement that Lisa is able to keep walking forward. Jisoo moves to give her room, and then the woman backs away, too. Jisoo and the woman exchange a glance before leaving the room, Jisoo taking a moment to look back at Chaeyoung, wonder still in her eyes.

 

Lisa takes the chair that Jisoo had been occupying. Her eyes have yet to leave Chaeyoung.

 

She seems nervous for some reason, so Chaeyoung smiles first. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 

Lisa laughs, and the sound puts Chaeyoung at ease. But it doesn’t seem to do the same for Lisa. “Nothing. I don’t know. Everything? No, I’m just—” She takes a shuddering breath. “I still can’t believe it. I thought we’d lost you.”

 

At this, Chaeyoung frowns again. “Speaking of that, where are we? Why am I—” She stops herself and looks around. “Why am I in a hospital? Why is everyone so . . . so surprised? What _happened_?”

 

Lisa looks taken aback. Without answering Chaeyoung’s question, she looks back to where the doctor is still in the room. He only smiles sadly. “Some form of amnesia is possible after traumatic events. Telling her about it can help bring back the memories.”

 

Looking back to Chaeyoung, Lisa stares for a moment before slowly shaking her head. “I . . . I don’t think I can . . . I can’t—”

 

“That’s quite all right. If I may?”

 

Lisa nods, and Chaeyoung shifts her attention to the doctor, who clears his throat. “Miss Park, I will try to be as straightforward as possible in explaining this, as confusion will only hinder your recovery. Six years ago, you were in a serious car accident.”

 

Lisa immediately buries her face in her hands. The doctor waits a moment before continuing. “We were able to attend to your physical injuries, but . . . during treatment, you slipped into a coma. Your vital signs were fine, however, so we continued to treat you, and, well, your family and friends here wouldn’t give up. And _you_ —you are really strong for pulling through, Miss Park.” He smiles. “You have quite the life left ahead of you.”

 

Chaeyoung stays very, very still.

 

_Tires screeching. Slamming on the breaks._

 

_Glass shattering._

 

“A coma?”

 

“Yes.”

 

_Crying. So much crying._

 

_Come back._

 

“Six years.”

 

“Yes, since the accident.”

 

Chaeyoung’s muscles suddenly spasm, and she coughs. Before the doctor can say anything, she asks, “Can I have a minute?”

 

The doctor nods and leaves the room. Lisa is about to leave as well, but Chaeyoung manages to move enough to grasp her hand that is still on the bed. “Not you. Please.”

 

When Lisa sits back down, Chaeyoung offers her another smile, this one more pained than her last one. “How are you?”

 

Lisa takes a second to process the question, and another to form an answer. “I . . . I’m fine, I guess. No, I’m beyond that, I—this is _amazing_ , Chaeng,” she says, and her eyes have a shine over them. “I’m so . . . _shocked_ , so happy, so—”

 

“Happy?” Pin-straight hair and wide eyes flash through her mind. “So these last six years, were you not?”

 

Lisa pauses as she takes in Chaeyoung’s accusatory tone. “What do you mean?”

 

“I’m pretty sure there was someone you could’ve shifted your attention to, so that you could get over me, wasn’t there?”

 

Lisa narrows her eyes. “Chaeyoung, I know you just woke up, and you have every right to be angry, confused, sad—anything. But without giving me a chance to explain—”

 

“Okay,” Chaeyoung says quickly, too quickly. A strange pressure is building up in her chest. “Explain. Here’s your chance.”

 

“I never gave up on you. Honestly. I was devastated, Chaeng, we all were, and I . . . I loved you. I still do, because you were my first love and my best friend. But I . . . it was a bad time, because of all of this, and everyone, they recommended I move on. I wouldn’t give up on you, but at the same time, I . . .” She exhales softly.

 

Chaeyoung feels tears forming in her own eyes as well.

 

“I just needed someone, as support, and I met her—Jennie, is her name—and everything just worked out. I didn’t mean to—to _use_ her as a replacement or anything, Chaeng, I promise. It started as a support system, we were just friends . . . and then I kind of fell for her.”

 

Chaeyoung closes her eyes, and she feels a couple tears slip out from the corners of her eyes.

 

“But . . .” Chaeyoung shakes her head. “We’ve been together for _years_ . . .” She trails off as the confusion appears in Lisa’s eyes. “What?”

 

“Years?” Lisa furrows her brow. “Chaeng, we were together for, what? Five months? I think we got an apartment together at five months . . . we were going to celebrate our six month anniversary when—” She stops, swallowing uncomfortably. “When the accident happened.”

 

“. . . What?”

 

No.

 

They’ve been together for years—the same house, the same routine—

 

An apartment? But they have an actual house—she never left the house—

 

Chaeyoung feels her heart skip a beat—she hears her heart skip a beat, because the heart monitor beeps erratically, and her mind falls into itself.

 

It was always raining.

 

_It was raining that day._

 

_They had gotten a package that morning, but the doorbell wasn’t working—so Chaeyoung had seen it on her way out, waiting in front of the door._

 

They never woke up to a doorbell.

 

The flickers.

 

_Come back._

 

“It was all in my head,” she whispers, mostly to herself. “We were just . . . in my head . . .”

 

When she looks up, Lisa is visibly confused. “In your head? What do you—”

 

“Nothing.”

 

Her head hurts. She feels older.

 

She is older.

 

“Chaeng, if you need to say something, or ask something, just—”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Chaeyoung swallows, wishing the heart monitor would slow down to help support her outward appearance of calm. “It’s a lot to take in. I’ll be fine.”

 

But the monitor isn’t slowing down, and Chaeyoung can’t hear anything Lisa is saying because the rain is too loud. It’s always raining.

 

The doctor strides back into the room, a team of nurses on his heel, and sometime during the commotion Lisa stands up to move out of the way. Chaeyoung wants to panic, she can feel herself on the verge of panic, but her heartbeat is a grounding force, the rapid but consistent rhythm acting as an anchor to reality.

 

She’ll be fine.

 

She came back, didn’t she?

 

She feels her heart skip a beat, the syncopation off-putting; it’s a minor displacement, but that’s all it takes.

 

Chaeyoung wakes up, and Lisa is smiling.

 


End file.
